


Deflowering

by terror1978



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, Other, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2020-04-06 22:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19071931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terror1978/pseuds/terror1978
Summary: What would you have to go through to forget how to smile?Peko, Natsumi, and Fuyuhiko grow up.





	1. Prologue

The sun was bright, and the day was warm. It was the tail end of summer, and the Kuzuryu household was quiet. Birds twittered as they dove in the yard, and a few of them fluttered in and out of the covered porch. The cicadas had been quieting down in the past few weeks, but they could still be heard occasionally, lending to that idyllic mid-August feel. The house itself was quite lovely, in a beautiful clear area, with classic Japanese design, and ornate touches that served as class statuses and breathtaking details. It was surrounded by greenery, trees, even a hedge near the property. In spring, flowers would bloom and blossoms would fall.  
It was a beautiful home, at least when empty.  
Birds that were lounging on the porch scattered when a door burst open from inside. The jangle of accessories being thrown down sounded as two adults came home, mid argument. Instantly, the house’s atmosphere went from handsome to hostile and the sound of a crying baby filled the air with noise.  
“It’s a girl, Rikona! It’s a fucking girl!”  
“We haven’t even been home long enough to fucking feed it and you want to remind me?!”  
“Why don’t we just kill it off and start over?”  
“You delusional piece of shit, do you have any idea what it’s like being in labor for forty-two fuckin’ hours?”  
“Can’t be worse than the pain in the ass you’re giving me, woman!”  
“Shut your fucking trap, Daisuke.”  
“Make me, bitch.”  
Rikona Kuzuryu kicked her husband in the leg. The exhausted woman stormed past him and sat down in the next room, kicking her shoes off and shifting the wailing baby in her arms. The infant was still so young that its face was blotchy and purple, and had been crying nonstop. She had been kicking and screaming the whole way home. She’d calmed down somewhat, but her energy for crying didn’t waver, even when her newborn voice was hoarse.  
Daisuke went into the kitchen and poured himself a drink. He gulped it down before deciding to grasp the neck of the bottle and bring the whole thing with him to join his wife.  
Rikona gave Daisuke the cold shoulder as she pulled back her top, exposing her breast to her newborn and pushing it into her face.  
“Come on, you little fucking worm, shut up and eat.”  
“Fancy a drink?” Daisuke offered sarcastically.  
“Not when I’ve got my fucking baby on my tits, dumbass.” She shot back. She turned farther from him, jostling the baby and making her open her eyes. She hiccuped, gasped in a few breaths, and then latched onto the nipple in front of her, at long last quieting down to eat while her parents shot each other pointed looks.  
“So what are we gonna fuckin’ do? It’s your baby, but it was supposed to be my heir,” Daisuke blurted after both father and daughter had been drinking for a while in silence.  
“We’re not gonna kill it.”  
“God, you thought I was serious?”  
“Shut the fuck up.”  
“You shut the fuck up.”  
“If I wasn’t feeding it I’d be kicking your ass right now.”  
“Would you shut up for two fucking seconds, you bitch? Do you have any worthwhile ideas in your small fucking head?”  
Rikona blew him off again, giving him cold silence as the baby finished eating and hiccuped, sniffling. She was restless from the hateful energy her parents shared and filled the room with.  
“We give it a name, obviously,” She said finally, voice almost gentle.  
“Genius.”  
“Shut up. Listen.” She looked up. “This baby? All god damn yours. It doesn’t have to know a thing. We’ll raise it like we planned. The family name continues and as long as we don’t say shit, it won’t know shit.”  
“The fuck are you saying?”  
“I’m saying this baby is a boy.”  
The implication of her idea took a moment to settle, and then Daisuke looked at the baby, who was squirming and whining. He put down his alcohol and reached to take her, looking down at her. He studied her cloudy grey eyes, the wisps of dusty blonde hair on her head, her wrinkles and her tear-streaked face. She was tense but quiet, as if she knew the significance of this moment.  
“Fuyuhiko it is, then.” Daisuke decided firmly.  
“Fuyuhiko,” Rikona repeated. “Give him to me, you drunk bastard.” She grabbed the baby and began to walk to the bedroom they’d prepared as Daisuke watched in eerie silence.  
She put Fuyuhiko down to finally get some sleep and went back to get some alcohol from her husband, too strung out to even argue. 

Fuyuhiko sniffled, unfocused newborn eyes watching the sun streak through the bedroom. He closed his eyes, falling asleep for the first time in his home, and beginning his legacy as heir to the Kuzuryu clan.


	2. Prologue 2

The first thing Peko Pekoyama remembered was being bathed.   
When reflecting on it, she was surprised that her memories reached so far back, and sometimes she wondered to herself if it was just fabricated. She had a very analytical mind, so perhaps it was real, and it just proved that she’d always had that way of taking in all the information around her and carefully storing it away, almost photographically. Either way, it stuck, and often played in her head just because it could.   
Two hands undressed her, and lifted her into a small tub with warm water. Peko remembered nails pressed lightly into her skin as her face was cleaned with a wet cloth. It was warm and soft, and she wanted to be washed all over with it. Peko had a lot of hair for a child her age, and she always coughed in surprise when water was poured over her head. Rikona held her head with one hand and poured the water again with the other, which made her cough again and throw her arms out in a reflex. She whined in complaint, but Rikona, who was an amorphous and menacing entity back in those days, seemed to be taking out frustration while she tended to the child. She was too little to be scorned in a satisfying way, so instead small rashes would show up on her soft skin following a bath, because the treatment wasn’t so gentle, and her skin was rubbed nearly raw.  
The baby had been conveniently found, abandoned, near the stretches of Kuzuryu property. Immediately she had been snatched up and brought to the home. She wasn’t a person to Daisuke and Rikona, but unfortunately she was too small to do much yet, so they cared for her alongside Fuyuhiko, and the two ate together, slept together, and played together. It started as convenience’s sake. The only thing they did separately was bathe, because the burden fell solely to Rikona, and she could only do one at a time. Fuyuhiko was always first, and laid down afterwards on a futon in the next room, alone until Peko was clean too.   
Water splashed onto the floor. The used bath rippled as Peko was lifted out and placed onto a towel, where her body was dried. The air hit her skin and she felt cold. She squirmed in the towel and provoked Rikona to hiss and scold her to keep still. She quieted. She learned to be quiet quickly.  
“I don’t know how you always get so fuckin’ dirty, you damn thing,” Rikona muttered as Peko was diapered. This kind of talk was almost her affectionate side. Almost. “All you do is eat and sleep and shit, and yet…”   
As the minutes passed, she was finally clothed, and her hair was given one more rub with the towel before she was again hoisted into the air and carried into the next room. She shivered, powerless to her rigorous routine that bathtime was. However, she knew where she was going, and it quelled her confusion and tears.   
Fuyuhiko was bored. He idly hit his hands on the cushion under. When he saw Rikona enter the room he started kicking his legs and opened his mouth to let out a cry, which made his mother sneer in annoyance.   
“Shut the fuck up,” She spat to her son, crossing the room and crouching next to the futon. She held out Peko and placed her on her back next to Fuyuhiko, who immediately calmed down. With disdain, she watched Peko reach a chubby hand to Fuyuhiko, who made a small gasp and blinked. He was a few months older, and the grey in his eyes had cleared to a light green. It gave him a sharp look and lent purpose to whichever direction they went.   
Satisfied that they wouldn’t be worked up again until she had to feed them and put them to bed, Rikona stood up and exited the room, leaving the two children to their own devices. Tangible calm washed over the two infants. They seemed content to lie next to each other, breathing sweetly and looking to the other once in a while.   
Eventually, the bond the two babies had was obvious. They would cry for each other when in separate rooms. Together, they spoke the mysterious language that only two infants could understand. When held away from each other, they would reach towards the other. Thus, Daisuke and Rikona fostered it to allow them to be more dedicated later in life. They’d train Peko as she grew, raising her minimally and instead hammering it into her head to protect their first-born son. They had plans for her, but she wouldn’t know it yet. 

This was what Peko remembered, this particularly cold bath night. Even then, she longed to be treated with more care, wanted to be swaddled and rocked to sleep. Her memory had this all-consuming feeling of yearning. Somehow, she always knew the vague figure rubbing away the dirt on her was not a mother, and never would be. She was tended to in the same household, but even as an infant, she knew that as soon as she could bathe herself, she would cease to be a child at all.


	3. Feathers

“Peko! Peko!! Keep running, okay? It’s just over here!!” Fuyuhiko called out behind him. He sprinted across the grass and ducked into the trees.   
Peko obliged, picking up to a run to catch up with him.   
As soon as she caught up to the younger boy he was already slowing down, and she slowly smirked at him. “I’m gonna keep running!” She said. “You wanted me to!”  
“Wait, wait! Peko! You don’t know where it is, okay?” Fuyuhiko had stilled to a walk.  
“Just tell me where it is!” A competitive spirit sparked inside her and she ran faster, mirth in her step when she heard Fuyuhiko yell and twigs snapping behind her as he started to run again.   
“Pekoooo…!!” He whined, grabbing her arm and bringing them both to a full stop. His face was flushed and he panted. “Peko, come on..!!”   
Peko turned around. She met Fuyuhiko with a now blank face, and raised eyebrows.   
“You told me to!”  
“Not that fucking fast..!” He whined.  
“We’ll still get there if we walk, right?” She said, and his expression softened.   
“Yeah we will. Come on.” Instead of running, he held her arm, continuing into the trees as the forest got thicker.   
They walked together, gazing around at the green in the sunlight. As they wandered further and further away from home, they felt calmer, and bolder. They started to giggle, pointing out little things to each other. Peko found a mushroom, Fuyuhiko called out to a red squirrel in the distance, to both children’s joy. Fuyuhiko stopped to pick up sticks and throw them. Peko watched him and would smile to herself as he’d grab the thickest he could find on the ground and nearly fall over bending backwards before launching it into the air. It would sail a good distance before crashing into a tree, snapping and falling to the ground.  
Eventually, Peko spoke up. “..What did you want to show me? Is it in here?”  
“Uhh, yes..!” Fuyuhiko looked like he had only just now remembered why he came out here. A grin crossed his face, and he giggled, turning a sharp corner.   
In a matter of moments, Peko found herself standing before the most magnificent tree she had ever seen. Her eyes went wide behind her glasses, and she silently turned to look at Fuyuhiko.  
“Fuck yeah! Isn’t it amazing? That’s not the best part, though!” He said. He let go of Peko’s arm, and went to the tree. He stood on his toes and grabbed a branch, pulling himself up. He scrambled somewhat before finding a place to put his feet and climb upwards, wrapping his arms around another branch.   
Peko didn’t take too long to follow, feeling daring. She was absolutely breaking a rule by climbing up after her young master, but she had nearly forgotten all about it. They were in the middle of the woods, and Fuyuhiko was beckoning her up. She shook her sleeves down to her elbows, grinned, and pulled herself up with him.   
“Hey, leave your sword on the ground, Peko! You’ll knock things over!” Fuyuhiko exclaimed, which she responded to by shrugging and letting it fall, cover and all. The grass and leaves made for a soft landing, and it bounced once, making both children giggle.  
After they had climbed a few branches, Fuyuhiko stopped chattering and instead pointed to something. Peko followed his finger, and in front of it was a birds nest with three eggs in it. She sucked in a reverent breath.   
“...When do you think the mother is coming back..?” She whispered.  
“Who cares? We should pick them up and take them home..!” He whispered fervently in return.   
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea..”  
“Why?”   
“It just isn’t.”  
“Oh, but why??”  
“We don’t know how to take care of birds, Fuyu..”  
This earned a sigh. “I guess not..” He pouted, not looking like he expected her to agree anyway, but still disappointed.  
“You should tell Natsumi about this.”  
“Ughh, are you kidding? She’ll fuckin’ break them! Just ‘cause she’s my little sister doesn’t mean she’ll be as careful as me.”  
Careful? Peko regarded him with a mixed expression to make a remark, but she saw that he wasn’t actually feeling like an argument. A breeze was blowing, and he was staring at the small, white, eggs, breathing evenly, blinking once in a while.   
He caught her staring and his green eyes widened a little, and his eyebrows furrowed. “Hey.. What’re you looking at?” He demanded.  
“Nothing.. You just seem to like it.”  
“Yeah.. I do.. I never see anything like this.”  
As they continued to stare at the eggs for what seemed like an eternity, a flutter of feathers started them both and they held on tighter to their respective branches as a bird flew in and squawked at them. Their eyes flew wide open and they clammed up.   
Suddenly, Peko reached out a little.   
“Peko, what are you doing?? You’ll scare it away!”  
“I… Wanna pet it,” She mumbled, determined.  
“You can’t! It won’t let you! It…” He stopped mid-sentence as he realized the bird was not scared away. Something compelled it to stay in the spot, even taking a few steps closer to Peko’s hand. In a second, it dipped its head down and Peko was able to touch it. She felt a shiver go through her body as she touched the bird’s fluffy feathers. She had no idea that it would even let her, and it was nothing short of a miracle. She forgot everything waiting at home, everything.   
“Wow… Hey…” Fuyuhiko whispered. He started to reach out too.   
In their concentration, they didn’t hear the slight sound of leaves crushing under feet approaching.   
“Pekoyama..!!” The shouted word cut through the air and Peko almost fell out of the tree in shock. Fuyuhiko gasped.   
“Pekoyama, I better see you on the fucking ground in two seconds!”   
“Mama-!!” Fuyuhiko called out angrily, but his mother wasn’t listening.  
“One!”   
Peko scrambled down the tree trunk.   
“TWO!” Rikona grabbed the back of Peko’s black yukata and dragged her down the rest of the way. She fell on the ground, and immediately came to her knees to sink into a deep, apologetic bow.   
“She was just helping me get down from the tree!” Fuyuhiko exclaimed, dropping down from the tree next to Peko. Rikona grabbed his collar and slapped him sharply.   
“You are six years old. If you broke your neck, I’d wring hers right along with you.”   
Fuyuhiko glared at his mother, unable to think of a response to that threat.  
“You, get up. Get on your god damned feet.” She demanded to Peko, who immediately came to a standing position. Her face was pale and there was no smile left on it. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”   
“I-... Fuyuhiko was-”   
“You are there to keep him safe.” She didn’t care for an explanation. “You are not his friend, and this is the last time I’ll see you little nitwits fucking around.” She turned her head.   
“What the fuck is your sword doing on the ground?” Peko swallowed as Rikona grabbed it, brought it down onto her head in a swift and angry blow, and shoved it into her arms. She felt her heart quiver in her chest as a ringing pain began in her head, but her face didn’t betray her emotions and she stared straight forward as she slung the sword back over her shoulders.  
“Home. March.” Rikona commanded. The two words came in short bursts, and Peko didn’t need another reminder to swallow her feelings and lead the way back.   
Rikona grabbed Fuyuhiko by the ear and dragged him with her, hissing when he yelped in pain. The procession continued back onto the Kuzuryu property, right to the back porch, and Rikona practically shoved the two forward. 

“Mama?” A toddler looked up from a cloth ball she was playing with as Peko and her young master made a pitiful entrance. She looked at her older brother with confused, wide eyes, and then stuck her tongue out, knowing he was in trouble.  
“Mind your own fucking business, Natsumi,” Fuyuhiko said bitterly, humiliated and terrified of his overbearing mother. He tried to squirm away from Rikona, but she grabbed his arm instead, twisting it until he cried   
“Fuyuhiko, stay right here. You’re getting a bath before dinner time. You both got fuckin’ filthy.”   
“Is Peko gonna get a bath too?” He said, glancing behind him at the silent girl.   
“The little slut can bathe herself.” She spat. Without another word, she pulled him away, taking him to the bathroom. 

 

Dinner was silent. Rikona, Daisuke, Natsumi, and Fuyuhiko sat with their food. Natsumi was picking up individual grains of rice with her fingers to put into her mouth, Daisuke was eating quickly as he usually did, and Rikona was giving Fuyuhiko severe looks as she slowly ate, and Fuyuhiko played with his food. He made eye contact with her and then glared, looking down into his bowl and pushing around the contents some more.   
“Why’s our little man not eating?” Daisuke broke the silence, and placed his bowl down momentarily.   
“He has something to talk about,” Rikona said pointedly, trying to meet Fuyuhiko’s eyes again, but he was avoiding eye contact with both.   
“Well, you gonna talk? Huh? Or did the old woman glue your trap shut?”  
Fuyuhiko clattered his bowl down and threw down his chopsticks, crossing his arms.  
“Gonna ignore us?” Daisuke laughed mockingly. “Grew some balls, huh?”   
Natsumi continued to eat her rice, seeming oblivious to her father’s mocking and the brewing argument.   
“He and Pekoyama were dicking off in the middle of the woods this afternoon. As if they didn’t have anything else today.” Rikona began, her tone of voice beckoning her husband to join her side in lecturing their son. “There was training and dusting to be done and you know where I found them? In a tree. In a fucking tree. Like two peas in a pod.”  
“The girl, too?”  
“They were playing together.”   
A grim silence.   
Fuyuhiko felt indignance rise in his throat like bile. “I wanted to show Peko the birds,” He said, finally. He didn’t see why they couldn’t have some fun. He had forgotten about the daily chores… And now they were in trouble and it was his fault. His hands curled into fists.  
“The birds?” Daisuke said, in a squeaky voice that made Fuyuhiko’s cheeks go red. He was making fun of him. “What kind of man wants to show off the birds? If it were my way I’d slice their heads off. Wakes me up too early in the fuckin’ morning.”   
Fuyuhiko bit his tongue. He had so much to say, but he knew Daisuke would make it sound stupid. Nothing he said was right.   
“I wanted to show Peko the birds!!” He repeated. “I know I’m not supposed to but I wanted to!! Okay? Fuck off! Fuck you!!” The strong words fell from the young child’s mouth without a second thought. In the Kuzuryu household, they were just part of the language.   
“How many times do we have to hammer it into your fucking head??” Daisuke shouted. Natsumi stopped eating. “Peko’s your tool! She’s there to protect you and that’s it. Not to show the fucking birds to!” The next second, he shot his arm out and out Rikona in a chokehold. Both children and Rikona herself gasped, food totally forgotten.   
“Take a good look at your mother. I killed two women today and it ain’t no problem for me to kill one more.” He picked up a chopstick. “I’ll put this right through her eye, huh? Right now. You watching?”   
“I.. I..” Fuyuhiko stuttered. He hadn’t seen any people die yet and he didn’t want to. He had been trying to push away the inevitability but it seemed like it was going to happen right here in front of him.   
“I know you think you love Peko. Well, I think I love this woman! But I would have no regrets if I had to kill her to teach get it through your numb skull. Do you think it matters what you think?”   
“No..!!” Fuyuhiko shouted finally. He yelled the first thing he could think of. “Fine! If you want me to kill someone I don’t care!!”   
Daisuke stood up, dragging Rikona to her feet with him. Fuyuhiko stood up too, defensive.   
“You old son of a bitch, kid’s gonna bite your head off,” Rikona said, making a lightning quick move and elbowing Daisuke in the ribs. He cried out, let her go and dropping the chopstick. She punched him in the stomach, and he grabbed a fistful of their hair. Their little lesson to Fuyuhiko was turning into a full-blown fight, and he didn’t know how to stop them. Again. This happened too much. The scene was fuzzy. A cold feeling seeped into his chest as he felt a sick sense of deja-vu. They were gonna kill each other for real this time. He was sure of it. Everything in the room screamed danger, because it all could be broken- thrown- smashed.  
A bowl of rice from the table was snatched away and Rikona threw it against Daisuke. The ceramic shattered against his forehead and pieces of porcelain and rice flew in every direction. A heavy piece flew and hit Natsumi in the forehead, and she yelled, and started sobbing as blood started to bead up and flow out of the scratch.  
“A-.. A bowl full of rice, huh?” Daisuke was dazed and stumbled back.   
“Yeah. And there’s more where that came from, bitch.”   
The tension was broken. Their fight was dispelled, a truce called for the time being. Fuyuhiko shakily grabbed a handful of rice, grabbed Natsumi by the arm with the other hand, and dragged her away from the dining room before their parents started to pay attention to them again. 

He brought Natsumi and the rice out to the courtyard, where Peko was supposed to be doing extra training as punishment. Natsumi sniffled and blubbered the whole time.  
“...Young Master…” She whispered, knowing what happened inside when she saw Natsumi bleeding.  
“I.. Brought you rice,” He said, without providing any other context.   
“Are you sure I should…?”   
“Yes..!! Please, please eat it, Peko!” He begged, shoving the de facto rice ball towards her, and she took it with shaking hands. She slowly went to sit down and gave it a nibble before downing it in large bites.   
Fuyuhiko sighed with relief and took his sister to the other side, cleaning her scratch as Peko ate. Peko was better at dressing wounds, but he wanted her to eat without worrying about this. This area of the courtyard used for training was very practical. You could find first aid kits here. He cleaned up Natsumi, produced a small bandage, and stuck it onto her forehead. The toddler was still sniffling, and grabbed Fuyuhiko’s hand, shoving it into her mouth to suck on.  
Fuyuhiko grumbled and looked down at her. “That’s fucking gross.”   
“She’s just trying to be happy,” Peko said gently. She had finished her dinner and walked over to both of them.  
“Yeah, I guess…” He heaved a sigh. “They’re so stupid. They’re so, so fucking stupid!” His voice shook and he met Peko’s eyes.   
“Can you come sleep in my bed?”  
“I’m not supposed to do that, Master.”   
“They won’t notice. Come on.. Please..?”   
“...Okay…” Peko was scared, but she didn’t want to be alone either. She was sure it’d be alright if they were careful.. And Daisuke and Rikona probably wouldn’t have the stamina for another fight.   
Fuyuhiko sighed again. He felt so relieved, and even though Peko’s eyes were severe and emotionless, so was she.   
Fuyuhiko held Peko’s hand, dragged Natsumi along with the other, and turned to go through another entrance of the house where his parents wouldn’t cross their path. After a lot of convincing, he put Natsumi to bed, and then went to his own bed, where he got under his comforter before lifting it for Peko. She hesitated before coming under with him, and immediately comfort washed over them both. Even though they were still in their evening clothes, they didn’t feel like changing. They found each other’s arms, wrapped themselves up in them, and curled into each other under the blanket.   
Soon, the day slipped away as they each listened to the other breathe. Fuyuhiko subconsciously held even tighter to Peko. He never, ever wanted to lose her. She might be just a tool, but he would never see her like that. As selfish as it was, at least that guaranteed she’d be there forever.   
“...Peko?” He whispered.   
“Young Master..?” She mumbled back, opening her eyes. She was half asleep.  
“Please never, ever leave me, okay?”   
“I won’t.. Never get rid of me. Okay?”  
“I won’t ever. Never ever. I swear and hope to die.”  
Peko wrapped her arms tighter around Fuyuhiko when she heard that. “Never… Ever, ever…” She repeated gently.   
“Never. Ever.” Fuyuhiko echoed.   
Thus they promised each other.   
Never, ever.


	4. Sashimi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to clarify that I'm writing about the results of very specific sexist abuse. This is not a trans story, nor is it meant to imitate one. I apologize for any triggering content- Stay safe.

Natsumi was being a pest. It seemed she had only one goal in life, and she was accomplishing it. That goal? Irritating Fuyuhiko to no end.   
“Oh my fucking god, leave me alone, Natsumi!!” Fuyuhiko snapped.  
“Why should I? You never listen to me!”   
“You never listen to me either! I’m telling you to get out of my hair!”   
“What hair?” She giggled.   
“Bitch. Leave me alone.”  
“Come on. Why don’t you wanna come to the lake?”   
“I’m fuckin’ busy.”   
“Sure you are, Fuyu…”   
“I am.”   
“You’re not.”  
“I am,” He insisted.   
I’m not gonna do shit with you. I don’t need a bath.”   
“Yes you do! I can smell you from here!”  
“Shut the fuck up..!”   
“You shut the fuck up!”   
“If you don’t keep your mouth shut I’ll shut it for you, bitch!”  
“Aaahh!!” Natsumi cried out, looking scared, then immediately stuck her tongue out. “You don’t scare me, dumbass.”   
“Well you don’t scare me either.”  
Natsumi was silent for a few moments, and then Fuyuhiko looked over at her. She was standing there and pouting slightly with no intention of moving. For some reason, that did it, and Fuyuhiko groaned loudly as he got up. He walked over to Natsumi and shoved her shoulder, to which she just smirked. She knew she got her way.   
“Come on.” She said, beckoning with her hand.   
“Whatever..” Fuyuhiko got up slowly. He put one hand on his stomach and followed her. He didn’t want to follow her for the simple fact that he didn’t feel like moving.  
In any case, the two siblings left the room and began their way out of the house.   
Upon going out the back door, Fuyuhiko saw Peko, and called out to her. She immediately joined the two.   
“Ugh, why’s she have to come?” Natsumi whined.  
“She’s supposed to, dimwit,” Her brother said. He glanced at Peko, but she just glanced back at him, blinked, and looked away.

The lake gleamed at the three, winking in the sun. It was a short walk away, tucked behind a line of trees. It was a familiar sight, surrounded by sand and weeds. No one else was ever around, because it was common knowledge that the land belong to the Kuzuryu clan, and no one in their right mind would take that chance, no matter how inviting the water was.  
Of course, the Kuzuryu children and Peko had no qualms over this. They made their way over to a thick tree, and Natsumi immediately undressed, shedding her clothes and wading into the water. She hollered at her brother. Fuyuhiko sighed and followed suit, stripped, and stepped into the lake, tensing at the sudden coldness hitting his feet. But he was quickly waist-deep all the same. A shiver ran up his spine, and he felt his stomach settle a little.  
The two children began to snip at each other, in the comfortable way that siblings did, Natsumi splashing Fuyuhiko but laying off when he threatened to have Peko cut her arms off.  
Peko sat nearby, not wanting to be off her guard. It was important for her to be ready at all times, and she didn’t want to be wet or naked. She took a deep breath and watched the two banter.

Fuyuhiko looked down at his face staring back at him in the lake, shimmering and fading in and out with each ripple. He reached for a handful of water to wash his face, and another, practically slapping the surface to destroy his reflection. He avoided his own eyes, looking at his own body. Instead he looked around at the lake, focused on the feeling of sand and plants under his feet.   
Very quickly, he didn’t feel like being in the water anymore, but Natsumi was still going strong. She loved baths, and it didn’t make sense to him, but she found joy being out in the water. She loved the way it stretched on all sides of her, like she was an island. She liked to go out further and find small fish, grabbing them in her bare hands before letting them go. Sometimes she’d throw them above the water and watch them splash back down. She’d dive in, opening her eyes wide, and try to find more. It was a game to her. She had no fear of the creatures, and she said the freshwater didn’t sting her eyes. She’d throw her clothes on sopping wet, seeming not to have a care in the world on the way home.   
She was resilient like that, in those small ways. To Fuyuhiko, it was almost a threat, and he was silently competitive. She could easily overtake him in a few years.  
Natsumi didn’t see it that way though. Even though she bothered him, tried to push him around, made him the main target of her sniping, she idolized Fuyuhiko. It never occurred to her that she would ever rise above him. She was never told that she would be on his level, despite her exponentially growing skill, she just wanted to be as close as possible.   
“Hey shithead! What are you doing standing by yourself?” Natsumi called out.   
“What does it look like?” Fuyuhiko answered. “I’m taking my bath.” He dunked under and popped back up to prove his point.   
“I’ve been done for ages! Come on, come over here. I’m catching fish.”  
“Why don’t you eat them?” He was joking, but immediately his heart sunk as Natsumi answered that with a grin.  
“Huh? You want me to??” She said.  
“God..!! Fucking-.. No!”   
“I’ll bite their fuckin’ heads off!”  
Fuyuhiko’s stomach began to turn again. “Don’t. You wouldn’t.”  
He didn’t say another word before Natsumi dived under the water. She came back up a few seconds later with a grin like a shark, holding up one closed fist.  
“Here I go! Say goodbye to the little bastard!” She announced.  
“God! Put it down.” Her brother protested.  
Natsumi opened her mouth wide, and brought the fist to her face, closing her eyes.  
“I said fucking put it down, Natsumi!”   
She opened one eye, paused, and then opened her hand. Only water dripped out of it.  
“You sick bitch!!” Fuyuhiko cried out. Natsumi erupted into laughter and fell back into the water with a loud splash. Fuyuhiko started to tread over to her, reaching out to swipe at her. She ducked away at the last second, hiding under the water again. He reached and immediately yanked her up by her hair when he felt it.   
“Don’t pull that shit! God!” He said. Natsumi didn’t even show the pain from her hair being pulled, instead smirking at him as she resisted his grip.  
“What? Aren’t you gonna say anything? Huh?”  
“Yeah, one thing.” She said slyly.   
“Spit it out then.”  
“Isn’t it like sushi?”   
“What??”   
“Sushi,” She quipped. Before he could answer again, she pulled an actual fish out of the water, the guppy wiggling in her fingers as she brought it to her and bit its head off with an expression like some wild animal.   
A scream threw itself out of Fuyuhiko’s mouth.   
“God!!!” He yelled, letting go of her hair and instead trying to grab her. She slipped away, spitting out the pieces of the tiny maimed fish.   
“What the fuck is wrong with you..?!” He screeched.  
“I would’ve never guessed you’re the big brother!” She countered. “It was just a little fish!”   
“That’s not like sushi at all! God, what’s wrong with you? Dumbass!” He seethed. Natsumi had successfully pushed his buttons, and didn’t seem bothered in the least.   
They chased each other until the fish was nearly forgotten. The two siblings often had spats, so this wasn’t new. 

Natsumi began to make her way to the shore. She’d had her fill.  
Fuyuhiko decided to follow, and slowed down as he felt a wave of nausea come over him. His stomach was cramping again. He closed his eyes briefly, waiting for it to pass so he could just get out of the damn water.

“Young Master.” Peko said.   
Fuyuhiko’s eyes flew open. Peko was watching him from the shore with a concerned stare.   
“Are you bleeding?” She asked.  
Confused, he slowly looked down. The water under him was dark, an unmistakable red blooming from under his waist.  
A gasp caught in his throat. Horrified, he stumbled back and away, beads of sweat breaking out over his forehead and shoulders. Did he step on something without him noticing? Did that even come from his foot? There was too much blood for that. His eyes unfocused.  
“Young Master!” Peko repeated. She was on her feet now, kicking her shoes off to go to him.   
“Ah… I…” Fuyuhiko snapped back to his senses, picking up speed and practically sprinting out of the water so Peko wouldn’t have to get her feet wet.   
“What the fuck??” He whispered, looking down at his legs. Watered down blood streaked across them, coming from.. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ! What the fuck?”  
Peko tried to get his attention again as he grabbed his clothes and threw them on in a panicked hurry. “Young Master…”   
“Oh, my god!” He cried out. He ignored Peko, until she grabbed his shoulder. He gasped and looked at her. Her grip was iron, and she stared through him.   
“Young Master, sit down,” She whispered, and her sincerity cut right through him. He obliged and shakily got on his knees, and she sat with him. She began to run her hand up and down his back as she stared at him.   
The touch made Fuyuhiko’s shoulders start to shake, and he rubbed his hands together. Peko continued to rub his back, bringing him a bit closer.   
“What happened?” She whispered.  
“Nh..” Fuyuhiko took in a sharp breath through his nose. Peko’s voice calmed him. His guard dropped and he leaned into her touch. “..Nothing. I was just fucking around, and..” He searched for any explanation. Another alarm started to sound in his head as he tried to avoid thinking about how sick he had been feeling for days now. Not only was it a weakness, but he felt the seriousness, and he knew something was wrong.   
“God, I… I’m probably dying, Peko,” He said, heart sinking.   
Peko was silent for a moment. She was staring at her master quizzically. “Dying?”   
“I..” All the suppressed fear and panic bubbled up into Fuyuhiko’s chest and his shoulders shook harder. “I’m sick, Peko!” He covered his face with his hands, hardly able to stand looking at her. “This morning, I.. I could hardly get up for breakfast! I knew something was wrong, and.. I.. Oh, shit, oh my god..” He doubled over as his stress washed over him and sent a stabbing pain through his abdomen.  
“You’re.. You’re not dying,” Peko answered finally.   
“You don’t know that..! Did you see all that blood? I could feel it going down my fuckin’ legs..!!”   
“You’re not dying.”   
“Shut up, shut the fuck up..!” He began to panic all over again. He tensed up, and Peko felt it through her hand.   
“Young Master, listen to me!” She whispered sharply, and that made him pay attention and look up at her, his cheeks flushed. She put her whole arm around him and kept him in a comfortable hold. “That blood… It’s not.. You’re not sick.”   
She left that in silence for a moment. Looking at him, she felt the weight of the air as he suddenly understood. 

Something he’d known but denied for a long time, every time he compared his sister’s body to his and then smothered the image in denial. Distancing himself from his own body, forgetting the functions, assuming that nothing would happen. He internalized it when his parents pushed him to man up and grow some balls. He never would, and as long as he denied it, everything had been fine. With every jab at his manhood, maybe the clock on his body would get the message.   
But biology didn’t care, and here he was, a red stain in between his legs, finally coloring in the lines of who he was. Who he was born as..   
It was at the back of his mind, even worse than dying of some unknown disease. 

“You already knew, didn’t you?” Peko said quietly. To Fuyuhiko’s silence, she lifted her other arm and linked her hands together so he was enveloped in both.   
“...Yeah,” He whispered back. He leaned into her chest.   
“I can help you, I know how.. It’s my job..”  
“..No, don’t say that. But I can’t get away with it, with, you know..”   
“I know.”   
“You’re god damn confident..”  
“I already got mine.”   
“You did..?” He looked up. “Why didn’t you tell me?”  
“I was waiting.” She said somewhat lightheartedly, but the tone didn’t betray how serious she was taking it. Still, it brought out a soft laugh from Fuyuhiko in the form of a short exhale.  
“I’m… I’m not a man,” He said.  
“You can be whatever you want.” She answered. She was right, but she wasn’t. Not here. Not to his parents. Not in the Kuzuryu clan.  
“..No. I know. But I can’t. And I’m.. Not.”  
“When your parents are gone, you’re going to be leading. I know the rules, but no one can argue with you. And I’m going to be by your side. What are they going to do?”   
The tenderness in Peko’s voice as she said this touched him and he felt tears form yet again. He let them streak down his face, hot and then immediately cooling off in the air. He sat there in Peko’s arms, each wave of panic dissipating as she held him.  
“How am I going to get to that?” He asked. He felt way too small.   
“The same way we do every day.” She told him. She rested her cheek on the top of his head, and they both closed their eyes.  
He felt like he would never pick himself up again, but there was Peko’s hand, reaching for his and bringing him to his feet. She wiped his cheeks with her thumbs, adjusted his top, and put her shoes back on. She then took his hand again and held it tightly.   
Natsumi was oddly quiet, always silent and annoyed when Fuyuhiko and Peko stuck to each other’s side. 

“Do you know what we’re eating tonight?” Natsumi piped up as their yard came back into their view.  
“Sashimi,” Fuyuhiko said. “Right?”  
“Oh my god, I’m gonna fucking vomit,” She answered.  
"You're the one who ate that shit."   
Peko felt half a smile.  
They felt the air cool as the day started to creep later and later into the evening. Leaves crushed under Natsumi and Fuyuhiko’s bare feet as they held their sandals in their hands.


	5. Konpeito

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doing my best to be consistent with this.

“You call yourself a fighter, girl??”   
Pain flashed through Peko’s body. She pushed forward, slashing the air in an offensive move. Almost immediately, her sword was blocked and she felt the almost electric sensation of the energy coursing from her sword back into her arm and body. She panted.   
She was in her teens now, but each Kendo move had been engrained in her muscle memory since she was barely out of her preteens. It was all a matter of being.. Good at it. And according to Daisuke, she wasn’t good at it. He had no semblance of mercy, no sense that the girl was young, no tough love here- only toughness. She could barely focus on each word Daisuke was saying, all her mental energy was on keeping herself from being fatally sliced right down the middle, as only she was using a bamboo shinai- Fuyuhiko’s father was using a fully functional katana.  
Peko gritted her teeth. She found a new wave of energy, and stepped forward, fixing her eyes onto the wiry man as she delivered three strikes, all blocked but the last one. Drops of sweat fell from the sides of her face as she felt her shinai hit Daisuke’s side.   
Daisuke didn’t show any recognition that Peko had managed to hit him, instead grabbed her sword. It was bamboo- so a blade was no problem- and he threw it to the side. In any other session, this would signal at least a break. Not here. He smirked, brandished his own sword, and stepped towards the girl, striking.   
Peko’s eyes went wide. Without her practice sword, she had no way of defending herself but her hands.  
Her hands.  
She side-stepped, her arm flashing out and grabbing Daisuke’s wrist. She immediately twisted her arm in such a way that Daisuke reflexively dropped his sword, and she trapped his hand in her hold, twisting in an arm barre. She pressed just enough to submit him.   
“God!” Daisuke exclaimed, and Peko let go. “Where were those reflexes an hour ago, girl?” He bent to pick up his sword, and then gestured to allow Peko to collect her own. She immediately bent and grabbed the handle, sheathing it as she had done a million times before.   
“Go. Get inside. Get clean,” He commanded, signaling the end of the training session. He didn’t bother to bow, solidifying Peko as nothing more than a Kendo machine. She was meant to fight and master it, almost sacrificing the art of it in the process. She didn’t deserve it and she knew it.   
She stepped into the sunlight and finally felt some air enter her lungs. She wiped sweat from her face, pulling at her gi to let some air hit her skin. She crossed the courtyard and slid open the door to the bathroom, shedding her armor, gi, and pants to bend over and rinse herself off.   
She rubbed handfuls of water over her shivering body, watching the water turn pink with swaths of blood rinsing away. Her limbs ached from the exertion, but she continued to cup water, rinse, cup more water, rinse, until the coolness of it started to balance out the burning of her muscles.  
Once clean she changed into her house clothes, stepping out of the bathroom and going to find Fuyuhiko.  
“Young master?”  
“Peko!” Fuyuhiko perked up when she entered the room. “Are you done training?”  
“..Yes,” She answered. His face was a comforting sight, but she knew Fuyuhiko was only glad to see her because he had been waiting for her to wait on him.. He had sprained his ankle recently, and Peko’s training was more intense than usual ever since, seeing as it was her fault it happened. She couldn’t let it happen again.  
“Can you make some tea? You’ve been out forever and I’m fuckin’ bored!” He exclaimed. He shifted his foot on the cushions near him.   
“Of course I can.” She turned around and went to the kitchen instead, pulling out a porcelain jar of loose leaf green tea. It was expensive and traditional, as most things the Kuzuryus owned were. She glanced behind her before pulling out the tea set and tray, putting water on to heat up.   
“Is it green tea?” Fuyuhiko called from the sitting room.  
“Yes, master.”  
“Ugh, don’t call me that.”   
Right. He didn’t like relying on her or his family’s power.   
“Yes, Fuyuhiko.”   
A moment of silence.  
“It would be better with sugar in it.”  
“Sugar takes away from the flavor.”   
“Fuck the flavor.”  
She didn’t respond. Silently, she began to make tea. She took a scoop of tea leaves, shaking them into the bottom of the teapot before turning and retrieving the water. She poured it into the teapot and covered it with the lid. She took the jar of tea and looked into it for a moment, tilting it to shift the contents, and then put it away. She cleaned up around the room before picking up the teapot again and pouring the tea into both cups. No one would complain about her having tea as well, as she knew Fuyuhiko would insist on her company. She didn’t know why. Probably because he would need something else.   
She screwed open a glass jar of sugar lumps, taking out a few with a silver spoon. She placed one in one steaming teacup, and dropped the other two next to it. Picking up the tray, she went into the previous room and set it down. She picked up one cup and carefully handed it to Fuyuhiko. She took the second cup and sat down with it, slowly sipping the hot drink. Its earthy, bitter flavor seeped through her and she could feel her soul healing from the strenuous morning. Her muscles ached, but the tea settled her nerves.  
“It’s not your fault I landed on my foot, okay? No matter what my parents are telling you.” Fuyuhiko said and broke into her thoughts, holding his cup in both hands.   
“It was. I didn’t protect you, and..”   
“Bullshit!” He interrupted. “I fell because I was stupid, not because you didn’t protect me.”   
“You walked on it.. And it’s worse now.” She protested.  
“So what if I walked on it? I didn’t need you to carry me!”   
“Don’t be careless.”   
“I’m not careless! I don’t need your help, you’re not a tool, and I don’t need to rely on anyone, alright?”  
Peko was used to Fuyuhiko’s blunt and belligerent statements, but she didn’t understand. Clearly, he needed her help. That’s what she was there for. That’s why he was sitting with his swollen and bruised foot up, instead of somewhat getting around. He refused her help, and now he would take longer to heal. She felt her bruised skin bristle as she realize.. He must hate her.   
Fuyuhiko sipped his tea and looked away at her silence.  
Peko then turned and caught his eye, and he smirked, which made her heart settle. But she couldn’t help feeling sick, knowing she was this useless. She looked away and their conversation fell into silence again. Look at that, she couldn’t even keep a conversation going for him while he was injured.  
“..Can you get me a cookie?” He spoke up again.  
Peko didn’t hesitate, and set her cup down to go into the kitchen once more and procure a cookie for Fuyuhiko. At least she could do this much.   
She brought it back and he began to eat it, but didn’t seem happy with it. Her very presence was poisoning the flavor. 

“Pekoooo..!!” Another voice cut though the air as a girl with a head of blonde hair bounced into the room. Natsumi flounced onto the couch, and the other two clutched their cups as the tea threatened to spill out.  
“Ugh.. Bitch..!” Fuyuhiko hissed.   
“What? Did I hurt your wittle foot?”   
“No! You almost spilled my goddamn tea!”   
“Whatever! I wanted to see Peko! She’s pretty and nice and not a stupid brother!” She leaned and hugged Peko tightly from the side. Some pain shot from her arm, but aside from a hard blink, she didn’t show it.   
“Hey..!! Leave her alone!” Fuyuhiko put his tea down to better hassle Natsumi.  
“Make me! She’s gonna be my little servant now!” Natsumi stuck her tongue out, and Fuyuhiko swiped to grab her hair. She ducked, letting go of Peko to snatch her brother’s arm and shake it. He grabbed for her hair again, and the two tussled until Fuyuhiko was gritting his teeth from his foot being jostled. 

Peko bit her lip.   
“I don’t think I’m needed here, young master.” She got up quickly, which seemed to surprise him.   
“What..??”   
“I can stay in the other room until you need something.”   
“But I-.. Peko, what the fuck got into you?”   
She ignored him, collected her teacup, and poured the rest out, not even bothering to finish it. She didn’t deserve this tea.   
“Peko…!” Natsumi called out, sounding disappointed. Peko shut her eyes. She didn’t want to sit through their bickering.   
No one followed Peko out into the hallway, where she sat with her head in her knees, bristling with exhausted irritation. 

 

Stars flashed and Peko’s head hit the ground. Before she could register that she must have dozed off, Rikona was standing over her and yelling about something. She struggled to her feet as she made out the words “didn’t take you in for this” and “it won’t just be a kick in the head.”  
She took a shaking inhale, bowing deeply and apologetically.   
“Just fucking do it.” The woman yanked one of Peko’s braids. “And fix your hair.”   
The girl watched Rikona leave, and she retied her belt, taking out her ribbons and hair ties as she left the hallway to find the bucket and cloth she was to use for mopping the floors. 

“Hey, Peko.”   
Peko looked up and saw Natsumi.   
“Want me to do your braids?”   
She was silent. She was in the middle of cleaning, and had just tied her hair back in a crude bun so it wouldn’t get in the way.   
“We have to eat soon, she’s probably gonna freak if you look like that,” Natsumi said, referring to Rikona.   
“I suppose you’re right. But I’m able to do my own hair, Natsumi.” She wrung out the cloth, draping it on the side of the bucket before getting to her feet. She grasped the handle and picked it up.   
“I know, but you don’t have to do everything yourself!” She said with a charming little smile. She used that smile to get her way several times. “I have to help make dinner anyways, come on!”   
Peko hesitated, but before she knew it she was putting away the bucket and following Natsumi.   
Natsumi pulled her hair out of the bun, and began to divide her hair and pull it tightly to twist it into her usual braids.   
“Fuyuhiko’s mad at me,” She giggled.   
“Why, what did you do?” Peko replied.  
“He thinks I made you mad. He’s funny! I’d never make you mad, you’re so pretty!”  
“...You didn’t make me mad.”   
“I know, that’s what I said!”   
“Why did he think that? It’s not about.. You. I was staying out of the way.”   
“Is that what you think?” She paused in the middle of tying the first ribbon. She then just shook her head and gave her a pat on the back. Peko tensed up.   
“Get Fuyuhiko in his evening clothes, ‘kay? I’m gonna start cooking!”   
Peko just nodded as Natsumi brazenly and cheerfully started off. Natsumi was younger than her, but still her superior. It gave them a strange dynamic, but the Kuzuryuu sister didn’t seem to care. She was up and coming as the leader of the household, even though Fuyuhiko was being raised as their heir. 

She was deep in thought as she made her way back to where Fuyuhiko was, and wrapped her arm around him so he could stand up. He seemed to be sulky.   
“You saw my mom got home? My dad’s still out, and I bet he’s gonna be pissed off that I’m still healing.”  
Peko made a hum of acknowledgement. She supported him as they walked to a changing room so she could help him dress as usual.  
“He was training with you earlier, right? Why doesn’t he give you a break if he hates being away from work so much?”  
“I can’t let it happen again.”   
“Peko,” Fuyuhiko said in such a serious voice that Peko looked up from the clothing she was holding.  
“..Yes?”   
Fuyuhiko took in a deep breath, sighed, and let it out, pulling out one of the pieces of sugar that Peko had given him with his tea earlier. The hard and clear crystal reflected in the evening sunlight as he turned it in his fingers.   
He looked back at Peko, and pushed it to her lips.   
“Eat it, okay?”   
Peko’s eyes went wide, but she obliged, taking the crystal from Fuyuhiko’s hand and placing it in her mouth. The sweetness immediately started to melt into her tongue, and her heart fluttered. She didn’t want to talk with it in her mouth, and she and Fuyuhiko met each other’s eyes, Fuyuhiko’s with some sort of indecipherable look in them. 

“...Thank you,” She finally mumbled, looking away.   
“I really loved being home with you all day,” Fuyuhiko said softly. To Peko’s quizzical look, “I know we’re together all the time, but.. I’m just saying, maybe you should let me break my ankle more often.”  
“It’s only a bad sprain,” She corrected.   
“Yeah, and I’m saying you should let me break it.” He said with a smile.  
“I’m not letting that happen.”   
“Come on…”   
“Next time we’re out, I’m protecting you better.”   
“Peko, I sprained my ankle because I stepped in a hole and fell on my ass, not because you didn’t think to go beforehand and re-landscape the entire bastard’s yard to make it safer for me.”   
Peko snorted in a laugh before she even registered that she found that funny.   
Fuyuhiko giggled, and then the two of them were laughing together.   
Peko found her hands holding onto Fuyuhiko’s arms, and Fuyuhiko was grinning with such a handsome smile that Peko’s heart ached and she tasted sweetness in her mouth all over again.  
“I have to help cook now,” Peko finally said.   
“Don’t forget about me in here, okay?”   
“I’m bringing you back out there.” She grinned.  
“You mean I have to watch you and Natsumi cook??”   
“I mean you’re going to help us.”   
“What??”   
“You wanted to spend time with me. Your parents aren't here. You should know how to make rice, at least,” Peko said, and tied his yukata, slipping her arm around his side again.   
The confusion in Fuyuhiko’s face slowly changed to a huge grin.  
“Yeah, show me how to make some fucking rice.”


	6. Natsumi

The sun was setting like every other night, but this night was different. It was a matsuri- a festival night- and the air of the entire city seemed to crackle with excitement at the citizens were dressing up, cooking, heading to the nearby temple. Even all the way in the secluded Kuzuryu property, the children could feel it in the air. If they weren’t supposed to be doing anything, even Fuyuhiko was allowed to go out into town.  
“Hey! Asshole! I’m trying to ask you something!” Fuyuhiko was pestering, following his younger sister around and trying to get her attention to no avail.  
Natsumi ignored him and stepped back, spinning on her heel, giggling snidely as she excitedly grabbed ingredients around the kitchen.  
“I’m making Yakisoooo~ba~” She sang, purposefully getting on her brother’s nerves while she collected the items into her arms and dumped them in piles on the counter.  
“Would you shut the fuck up and listen to me for three seconds, bitch??” Fuyuhiko raised his voice, annoyed just as his sister intended. Instead of paying attention to him, she hummed loudly, throwing a wooden spoon and a hunk of ginger root on the counter. That was enough for Fuyuhiko, and he lunged forward, grabbing her sleeve.  
Natsumi whirled around and grabbed Fuyuhiko’s sleeve right back, twisting his arm with reflexes that almost rivaled Peko’s. Fuyuhiko yelped, yanking his arm away and meeting Natsumi’s smirk with a scowl.  
“What? What were you gonna tell me, little shit?” She asked smugly.  
“What did you do with my knife?” He demanded immediately.  
“You’re gonna take your knife to the festival??”  
“YES! Did you think I was going to just leave it here at home? We aren’t civilians, numbskull!”  
“You sound like dad. Drop it.”  
“You sound like a toad!” Fuyuhiko snapped.  
“You look like a toad.” Natsumi retorted immediately.  
“You smell like a toad!”  
“You smell like a dead toad.”  
“You smell like a toad’s shit!”  
“You smell like a dead toad’s rotting shit!”  
Both siblings started to guffaw when Peko entered the room, tying her sash.  
“Young Master,” She stated simply.  
“Peko!” Fuyuhiko turned away from Natsumi and skipped to her side.  
“Are you ready to leave?”  
“Are you kidding? I’m fucking ready!” He cracked his knuckles. Everyone in the Kuzuryu household was excited to spend a fun evening in town, celebrating the season like normal people. Even Peko was less reserved, her shoulders relaxed. She gave Fuyuhiko the lightest of smiles.  
“Peko, Pekoo, can you help me please?” Natsumi chirped from the kitchen. Peko didn’t waste time in heading over. Natsumi pointed at the pile of food on the counter, and Peko dutifully stacked some of it and levied it into her arms.  
“Hey, you can carry shit on your own, don’t make her do that,” Fuyuhiko said, but Natsumi was already putting another packet of noodles on top of Peko’s burden.  
“She’s here to help us, I just need some help!”  
“She’s here to help ME.”  
“Oh right, because you’re a helpless little baby.” Natsumi crooned. She turned away from him and carried the rest of the ingredients, leading the way out with Peko in tow.  
They would all be in high school soon, and for the Kuzuryus this was a significant chapter in their life. Fuyuhiko would be joining Hope’s Peak for their prestigious talent development, and Peko would be joining him. Natsumi would be there, too, but.. She wasn’t important to the family’s success. She would be in the reserve course.  
Fuyuhiko picked up his pace and followed, disgruntled. Something was bothering him about Natsumi, and it was becoming more apparent as they grew. Though she was never valued as such, she was becoming a formidable fighter. She wasn’t as reckless or angry as Fuyuhiko. She was sly, manipulative; Lightning-quick, like a fox. She disarmed everyone she met and had no trouble getting her way with just a few words and a coy smile. With a sword, she was downright dangerous. And as much as he hated to admit it, she was a better yakuza than Fuyuhiko. If it weren’t for their ranks in the family, Fuyuhiko would be done for.

 

Natsumi was concentrating. Her eyes were focused sharply on each ingredient, her hands feeling each texture as she brandished a cooking knife to prepare each vegetable. The ginger went first, grated and thrown into the oil, sizzling immediately. Scallions went next, their small green rings wilting and mingling intoxicatingly with the ginger. Chiles went in, then came a second drizzling of oil. This base was going to be what everything else was cooked in, the sharp and spicy flavors winning over everyone around before they even saw the food stand.  
The oil was beginning to bubble slowly. The aromatics were soft and simmering. Natsumi sliced mushrooms so quickly it looked like she was going to cut her fingers. They joined the oil on the barbeque, and the scent intensified. She added the mushrooms first, because she believed mushrooms were the real heart of the dish. Their small slices became soft and soaked with flavor, their own umami taste carrying the ginger and chile like dutiful children carrying lanterns.  
Natsumi’s knife was a silver flash as she julienned carrots. She wiped it off. The meat fell into strips like dominoes and both items were scooped into the oil and mixed around. Cabbage was added, and then it became an almost reckless procession- a few more scallions were tossed in. Sesame oil was drizzled. More mushrooms. Just when you thought the entire mix was going to fall apart, Natsumi slashed open a bag of noodles and let them tumble into it. They began to fry immediately in the hot oil, and started to brown while the girl tossed everything relentlessly. Again and again she would shove her spatula underneath the mass and flip the vegetables and noodles around.  
It wasn’t long before she had customers, the first festival goers of the night were drawn to it. She would talk them up with a huge smile, and they would gladly and generously hand over their money. She would stab the spatula into her Yakisoba, delving out a portion and tossing sesame seeds and scallions into it. She would lift the noodles, slide them into a beautiful paperboard cup, and with a delighted gasp from the customer she would heap red pickled ginger and seaweed flakes on top before shoving the chopsticks into the noodles. She handed it over.  
Soon, she would be attracting a long line, and would be repeating her recipe to keep up with it, her supply seeming neverending. Her Yakisoba was the best in town, a well-known highlight of the festival.  
Waiting for the next hungry face, Natsumi’s eyes wandered around. She spotted her brother and Peko in the distance. Fuyuhiko seemed delighted. His emotions had always been extreme. She thought it was a weakness, a volatile aspect of him that left him vulnerable. He didn’t utilize Peko, overprotecting her and getting himself hurt. His sprained ankle wasn’t the last time he ended up injured for being careless, something that Peko could have prevented altogether. When they would go out with Daisuke, Natsumi would go to the backyard, pick up Peko’s old practice shinai, and teach herself Kendo. She would attack a punching bag, she would make targets out of old containers and practice shooting. She even shot at birds on their property so she knew how to hit a moving target.  
And yes, she took Fuyuhiko’s knife with her. She slid her hand inside her jacket and touched the hilt. She rubbed it with her thumb. She kept rubbing it slowly, watching Peko politely bow towards a vendor and then reach for two napkins. What had she bought? Probably fried cookies. Fuyuhiko was pathetically in love with them, and the family’s wealth was all but quashed each festival night as he satisfied his sweet tooth with all kinds of treats. It was more or less frowned upon, so he would eat them quickly in case Rikona and Daisuke were, for some reason, going to make an unexpected trip to the festival with them.  
He took one of the napkins from Peko and scarfed down the crispy browned treat inside, while Peko hesitantly nibbled at her own. Fuyuhiko always bought two of each thing, but Peko hardly ate hers. She didn’t know how to enjoy herself.  
But Fuyuhiko always tried to make her. Natsumi scoffed. She was rubbing the handle of the knife harder, the friction warming her thumb. All at once, she felt the separation between her and the face of her family. Her brother and Peko were practically glued to each other by the waist, and she was fifty yards away selling fried noodles. Her reflexes, her strength, her precision, she used all of it to time rice so that it would be done just in time for the curry.  
She could slit a throat or give a stab quick enough that a man would die an almost instant death. But she wouldn’t. She could be the one protecting her dumbass brother from himself while they were collecting some poor sap’s debt, but she wouldn’t. She would be at home. Cooking, doing the shopping, going to school. Defending herself was the only time she ever became any use, when a glass bottle would sail throw the air she was able to hit it to the side. She could jab her elbow into Daisuke’s stomach to avoid a chokehold.  
“Ah-” A stab of pain. “Shit..!” She had been careless with Fuyuhiko’s knife and cut her thumb with it. She quickly shoved her hand into her armpit and began to squeeze, trying to quell the pain. With her eyes shut, she didn’t even notice someone coming up to the stall.  
“Natsumi!”  
Her eyes flew open.  
“Fuyuhiko!”  
“Why’re you doing that? Cut your hand?”  
To her glare, his face lit up.  
“You DID take my fucking knife!”  
“Fuck off Fuyuhiko, or I’ll slit your throat.”  
“Give it to me.”  
“You don’t need it.”  
“I’m gonna get Peko.”  
She couldn’t argue with Peko. She whipped out the knife and shoved it forward, almost stabbing Fuyuhiko. He flinched, but snatched it away from her and put it away. He started talking about a dance he was going to go watch. Peko was already waiting.  
“I can’t go. I already started the next batch,“ Natsumi said.  
“Whatever! You’ve got the best Yakisoba in the whole country. Can’t disappoint anyone! Here, got this shit for ya.” He thrust a pastry towards Natsumi, then ran off.

She watched Fuyuhiko disappear into the crowd, and then looked down at the pastry in her hands.  
She dropped it to the ground and stepped on it, grinding it into a paste in the dirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at it again because I missed this fic a lot


End file.
